


Apocalypse Later: Hearts of Dimness

by upquarkAO3



Series: Lucifer: Post Season 1 - Pre Season 2 [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe has weird friends, Gen, Lucifer is pretty in several guises, Potential electronic steaks in strange places, binding off some angsty ends before Mama comes to unravel e'ver lil thang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:59:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7989283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upquarkAO3/pseuds/upquarkAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[PART THREE OF THIS SERIES!! Order is Leather and Pop Rocks, Storm Warning and Apocalypse Later]</p><p>A nod to Milius and Coppola (and of course, Mr. Conrad from whence their ideas bloomed) for the riff off the title. Set immediately after Storm Warning…where I really hadn’t intended to explore further, truthfully. However it just felt too undone. Also, I am waaaay a visual person. One of the things I like about how the show does ‘Lucifer’s look’ is that it is NOT the same every time. And why would it be, really? What threads fear into one soul may not for another so yeah, chameleon. Anyhoo, here Lucifer’s appearance is some of how I see ‘the fallen archangel’ aspect. FWIW. Still working on Chloe’s voice. *sigh*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apocalypse Later: Hearts of Dimness

[ - ]

  
Chloe Decker got as far as putting the keys in her ignition before her hand froze, almost of its own accord before she turned the engine over.

  
What was she doing?

  
What had she been doing?

  
**Why** did she come here in the first place? To have questions answered. Well, were they? Not really, no. Seemed like a lot more cropped up, ‘smatter of fact. How about to stem the rising tide of doubt in order to salve the part of her mind that served her so well elsewhere, perhaps? Not really assuaged well there, either. The enigma dissector that she could be  still felt grossly unsatisfied. Person of integrity that she was….well…the same. For more than a few reasons.

  
And she was also suddenly, blisteringly angry. That was rather an important aspect, actually, at least in her own estimation. How dare he expect her to leap chasms of longstanding, unchallenged beliefs in an instant? Who was he to ask – no **demand** instant gratification and understanding from someone like her? They’d discussed her belief system (or lack thereof) before. No surprise there. So, who in the Hell did he think he was? Huh.

  
In fact now she knew. **Fine**.  Good. NEXT.

  
And now perhaps he’d benefit from a little, ‘hello ass, I’m Chloe, let me reintroduce myself’ as well.

  
Oh **Hell** yes.

  
She ripped her keys back out of the ignition and whipped herself from the car. Storming back through Lux’s door she barely registered the look of surprise on the staff’s faces as she blew by. She couldn’t blame them; after all, she’d just torn out at about the same speed in the opposite direction. She crossed the space to Lucifer’s elevator quickly, keeping to the periphery of the shadows - not really caring if she saw Mazikeen, but not particularly relishing the thought of getting caught up in noise either. For the moment, the Detective allowed herself to operate under the idea (delusion?) that it was because she wanted (burning, hah) questions answered, and not no way, not nohow because she might lose her nerve on the way to bawl out the Devil in his own livingroom.

  
The demon had indeed seen her, all **three** times in the last half hour as a matter of fact. The first foray was met with a mild eyebrow raise and look of evaluation, the following rapid exit with a knowing smirk and the third go? Well…perhaps a bit of grudging respect. Maze took in the woman’s forceful body language, narrowed eyes and the thin line of her full mouth as she stabbed the private combination series to the elevator. If machinery could bruise she’d need to get that panel a steak poultice. She poured herself a drink and found a quasi-hidden spot close by as the doors closed on the woman. It was quieter on this level and she’d be better set in case some intervention was required. Above OR below. Flicking an amber glance around the demon chuckled to herself. Her spot was close to one of the fire extinguishers…depending on how things went upstairs the detective might need some…dousing…when she exited. Which could be a shame as Maze though she might…MIGHT…be learning to tolerate her better. She sipped, and with coiled anticipatory tension for any and all things from any where, set herself to wait.

  
Chloe allowed her anger to focus and hone her during the ride up. They’d had differences of opinion before, but this was….yeah, well…. Yeah. A thin reactionary shell on the boundary of **what** it was. And who knew what it was going to  become?

  
Lucifer was still in his bedroom, standing by the tall windows and soothing his forehead on the cool glass. When he heard the elevator doors open again he sighed, softly. Maze, likely. He straightened his shoulders and rolled his neck a bit. Unfinished business on several fronts had been snapping at his mind, and the detective and her family were only a part of that. And not the largest, most immediately pressing part, truth be told, which was why the recent reveal was so distressingly untimely. More complications he hadn’t wanted. He turned and began to walk toward the living space of the loft, only to be brought up short by the unexpected figure standing in the middle of the space.

  
If one could define what Chloe was doing as ‘standing’. Vibrating, more like. Arms crossed, fingertips on one hand drumming her elbow. Booted foot twitching. She was angry. Wary, in addition - but much more the former. He curled his lip in irritation.

  
Well, what of it?

  
She wasn’t alone in that.

  
It was late, he was tired; exhausted really from mental grappling in diverse directions. Denouement of the last few days and anticipation of family mayhem coming, and now apparently a human temper tantrum brewing in the squall line of her glare. Bloody Hell.

  
“Forgot something, did you? Dignity perhaps? Collect it and go then.” His offhand remark was tossed with the barbs sheathed. If required, the next wouldn’t be.

  
The storm clouds in her eyes gathered.

  
“Lucifer.”

  
“Yes, yes…established all that quite recently – old news, really. Or are you suffering from shock-induced short-term memory loss in additional to partial deafness? I seem to recall asking you to leave."

  
When she opened her to speak again, he cut her off. “ _ **I**_ remember it QUITE clearly, in fact. Haven’t changed my mind, darling.  Go.”

  
“Stop it, Lucifer! You don’t get to just -”

  
His voice milked silky with a scathing hue in the shadows of its rippling intonation. “Oh my dear, but I do. This is **my house** you’re in now. Unwelcomely, I might add. Have you stopped to consider why I might have asked that of you? Or were you simply led by your own myopic whims?” A hollow chuckle splintered away from him, scratching her. “By your expression of irritated chagrin, ‘tis the latter I’ll surmise.”

  
He swept close to her, approaching with such suddenness that despite her anger and the softness of his voice it jolted her to flinch away from him, sensing the thinning veils over the predator now.

  
Circling slowly, hands behind his back with fingers laced he stalked her. His eyes, head, shoulders and neck tracked her movements and expressions with finely-honed ones of his own. Chloe had seen this cryptic nuance of behavior before: when she’d patted him down looking for an armored vest, the occasions she’d scolded him…she’d also seen him do it to suspects and the difference between amused attention and focused hunting was quite unnerving when she was on the receptive side.

  
Unnerved and scared were not the same thing however, and as he’d asked once long ago he did again now. Her answer remained the same.

  
“No. You don’t scare me.”

  
He paused, appraising. Tilted his head back with dark eyes narrowed, and one brow slightly arched.

  
“Foolish.”

  
He sidled from behind her, leaning in and brushing the back of her shoulder with one of his own. She held herself perfectly still, and her show of bravery amused him. It also made him sadly fearful…she’d rather cling to what she thought she **should** be acting like instead of adapting as he needed her to. He could indeed be terrifying though he himself would never present a danger to her. But others like him…oh yes. Oh yes,  they **would** and she needed to learn respect for the chasms of difference between mortal and not.  Quickly, now.

  
“But all you humans are really, when the reality of what you think you understand…or **do or don’t believe in** , confronts you in the way that it **is** , not as you’d thought it ought to be.”

  
He was surprised by her answer, the delivery empty of her earlier frustration.

  
“I believe in you. The Lucifer I know. Have for a long time, actually. And I don’t need you to be a Devil for that.”

  
Humans. Simply fascinating. Maddeningly exhausting, but still…

  
What could he do? With what options was she leaving him?

  
He relaxed his tense posturing and came in front of her. Extended a hand and was pleased when after only a second’s hesitation, she took it. He led her to the piano bench and with his eyes, bade her sit with her back to his joy. He could only hope that her immunity to him in other ways would render her more resilient now.

  
“Detective. **Chloe**. I am going to show you…a small glimpse of what I am. Mind me, it is but barely scratching the surface...and after, when I tell you why, you’ll perhaps understand my caution in this matter better. As you’ve refused - rather obstinately I might add - to leave, I am assuming this is what you’re after? Am I wrong? I want you to be certain. No idle farce of entertainment I’m offering here, darling.”

  
She nodded. A small nod, yes, but no hesitancy.

  
Lucifer gave her a smile of equivocal size and response as he began to back away.

  
And change.

  
Chloe gasped, eyes and mouth flown wide like he was trying for her perceptions to become.

  
The shifts were performed with quicksilver rapidity, but she’d never,  never forget what she saw for the rest of her long life. Could never. Or what she felt. **Ever**.

  
As Lucifer first drew his hand away, he…disappeared? No…smoke: thick and viscous as ink blooming through turbulent water swirled and coalesced upon itself. Visual sibilance of every shade of everything colorless: opulent ivory through deep silver to the ebony of borrowed time retreating from her until a mere ten feet away it (he??) changed again, turning ‘round. Solid cold now, in every hue of steel and indigo grey, skewered with pulsatile seams of dully reflective shine through his graceful form. Altering once more to color blooming with the fires of concurrent sunrise and sunset, as if horizons were sealed in unremitting paroxysms of suicidal stars cumulating in a silent thrum of blindingly lustrous purity. White light was all the colors, she remembered, and in awe, now she understood what that meant.

  
Chloe closed her eyes, more in disbelief than pain at the brilliance of him. And still, with sight shielded as she was, **still** she felt him watching her. Evaluating.

  
After another shuddering gasp, she closed her mouth as well, trembling fingertips covering her face as if to keep the images seared within her brain as pure as she could. He was… ** _glorious_**. She’d had no idea. None. And he’d said this was…just  barely a hint of him. Oh God.

  
Well, exactly. **Jesus**.

  
Wait, **he** was probably another story entirely. She let out a mild snort of muted laughter as an amused observer scrutinizing her own mind’s recovery.

  
“Detective?”

  
Lucifer watched as she lowered her hands and opened her eyes. Vibrantly rich as the glow of calm water under blue sky as they were, he thought hers beautiful. ‘Jeweled soul windows on this human indeed, Father’.

  
He was still standing about ten feet from her in a three-quarter turn away, dark eyes cooling to deep brown from their blaze of crimson. Peering at her anxiously when she did not respond with her usual quickness. Trying again, he spoke her name; a soft question.

  
“Chloe?”

  
She could only nod and once more, take the hand offered as he approached. Lucifer led her out to his balcony and for a time, they simply stood side by side in silence, mirror reflections of each other with elbows resting on the clear wall and faces slightly tilted up to take in the few stars visible through the murk of LA haze. A sky dimmed with obfuscation, like the hearts under it with their private concerns.

  
Now with cognizance pried agape far wider, she listened with far greater intensity as he spoke of the likely danger coming than she had on her porch earlier. Danger she might present to him, unintentionally though it may be. Warning her that his family was vast and unpredictable; that even those on the side of the righteous could be corrupted into harm as indeed, one had been recently but ended in recovery. That there was a danger from the fetid darkness coming as well, perhaps more than one. That these could bring despair and caustic pain such as no human had yet experienced on this plane. That these concerns of his were real, as real as the glimpses of himself he’d just shown her….and her understanding was limited not by lack of intelligence or strength of character, but by intrinsic human nature alone.

  
“You can NOT fathom, truly. It’s not intended a slight, darling. It just **is**. And the forms and the methods these dangers can choose are malleable. Emotions, appearances, events – liquid in any guise of human expression as the parlor tricks I’ve just shown you of myself.”

  
She nodded, watching the motion of his hands as he talked. His ring played flirt with the soft light surrounding them and she wondered again what it was; what it meant. Unable to ask at the moment. Lucifer minding her silent observation of it but declined to explain, feeling correctly her burden of knowledge this night was already heavy. Time enough later (he hoped) to describe the talismans of surveillance for his abdication. ‘In for a penny my dear Detective…’ he thought.

  
After he was finished speaking they were lost in quiet consideration a while longer, until she threw a small scatter of pebbled words onto the reflective surface of their silence. He didn’t hear her clearly the first time as her voice was still echoing from the far hollows of wonder she’d been driven into. Chloe cleared her throat and repeated: stronger, more seasoned now from the journey. Returning as her own lifeline. Becoming herself again. A participant, not mere observer or pawn in the events potentially unfolding. This felt good. Familiar. As he did still, incredibly.

  
“I said, ‘Thank you, Lucifer. For trusting me.’”

  
She felt him sigh beside her, pleased.

  
“Nothing else for it I suppose, you stubborn creature. We **are** partners, yes?”

  
“Yes. Yes we are…you  freak.”

  
“Feh. What kind of freak comes **bullying** for the match to ignite the tinder of their mind? Pot/kettle indeed, darling.”

  
“Hmm.”

  
“Rather tenaciously hot, though. Likey  that.”

  
He ran his tongue under his lower lip and earned himself a slap on his elbow.

  
They both grinned a little and shook their heads, expressions the same for different reasons.

  
From downstairs the demon Mazikeen could feel the temperance in the change occur, and smiled to herself. No fire extinguisher necessary for the human Chloe Decker tonight….unless of course, the mother of angels found them together.

  
How might time and long isolation have changed her?

  
Mazikeen sighed, her expression growing cold once more.

  
They were all going to find out soon enough. Of this the demon was certain. As only she could be.


End file.
